Rating: NC17

Spoilers: None

Author: Vasalysa, with many undying thanks to Geek.

E-mail: cmbower@ennorath.net Comments are always welcome

Six hours later, McQueen watched dully as the last of the fighter squadrons returned to base. Exhaustion made itself known throughout his body. He coughed, his throat sore.

A large coffee mug appeared, held by Ross. "Drink it. Now."

Gratefully, McQueen took the mug and started drinking the almost scalding hot coffee. Normally he drank it black, but he was desperate for the energy the sugar would give.

"Ty, you look wiped. You're still not fully recovered yourself. Go on. We can handle it from here."

"Thank you."

Sipping from the mug, McQueen slipped the head set off and dropped it on the console. He nodded to Ross as he headed for the door, still sipping the coffee. His first stop was the reopened officers' mess where he refilled the coffee and snagged two doughnuts, one covered in chocolate and the other powdered sugar. Wolfing down the doughnuts, he grabbed another chocolate one and started gulping the hot coffee. Another refill and he started nibbling on the doughnut as he strode the corridors to Sickbay. He was just finishing the coffee when he saw West and Hawkes on Silver's door.

Swallowing the last of the coffee, he said, "How is everything?"

"Been quiet. They've got Griffon on a bed in there. He hasn't regained consciousness." West chewed his lower lip. "Silver, well, all they'll tell us is that she's stable."

"That covers a lot of territory. Damn. I was hoping for some sort of improvement." McQueen frowned.

"Sir, how was the fight?"

"We took some loses, Hawkes, but the Chigs lost a lot more. We took out three Hive ships, over two hundred fighters, and twenty or so bombers. Over all, we won this one decisively." He met Hawkes' eyes. "You know why I left you here?"

Both Hawkes and West nodded. "Yes, sir. We traded with Shane and 'Phousse after three hours. They'll be back soon. We all understand."

"I want the four of you at the Officers' Mess at 1800 hours. Nurse Temple is going to do some explaining and I'd like the squadron to hear it as well."

"Who else will be there, sir?"

"Dr. Connelly and the commodore."

"Exalted company, sir. We'll make sure Hawkes doesn't talk with his mouth full again." West chuckled.

"Man, aren't you ever going to forget that?"

"No."

McQueen nodded toward Silver's room. "Can I go in?"

"Yes, sir. Jean said-" At McQueen's blank look, West explained, "She's the young blonde in charge in there. She said that you were cleared to go in. Jean's the only one in there right now."

"Thanks. Did you two get to eat?"

"Yes, sir. The red alert sounded just as we were sitting down so we took our food to the barracks. We'll return the stuff when the girls take over here."

"Good. Make sure, though, that they get to eat."

"Yes, sir."

Silver's room had been cleaned and cleared, McQueen saw as he entered. The damaged machines were gone, blood no longer spotted the floor and the bed had been righted. On it lay Griffon. To the side, sprawled in the chair, sat the young woman he assumed was Jean, apparently sleeping. He couldn't see Silver so he crouched down to look under the bed. Curled up, still in primal form, rested Silver, her chest barely rising with each breath.

"Colonel." Jean's voice was quiet. "It's all right. You can touch her. She most likely won't respond."

For a long second, McQueen resisted the urge to sit down on the floor beside Silver. He didn't know Jean and hated to reveal the depth of his feelings to those who didn't know him. With a sigh, McQueen realized that Jean already knew everything there was to know and he sat down on the floor, twining his fingers into Silver's fur. "What's wrong with her?"

"At a guess, colonel, she's at death's door."

McQueen closed his eyes, bowing his head.

"You sent Griffon's message?"

He nodded.

"Then we have a chance. I'm not a doctor, but I know her injuries are severe. Can you tell me anything? I need a better understanding for when the team gets here."

"She called herself walking dead at one point." Aware that the comment did not help the situation, McQueen forced his mind to focus. "I know she broke the shoulder, a bunch of ribs, had internal bleeding, the damn burns, and various sprains. She did say that if she were merely a tank, she would have been dead."

Jean's breath hissed as she breathed in sharply. "That bad? Shit. No wonder."

"Please explain." He looked at her.

"Colonel, you know how much damage a normal human can take and still keep going if they're really determined, right?"

"Quite a lot."

"And I'm sure that you are aware of just how much more damage an Invitro can take."

McQueen nodded.

"Well, under normal circumstances, vampires can take the same ratio as Invitro to human, only to the Invitro."

Jaw clenched, McQueen cursed under his breath. He knew first hand how much damage a Invitro could take and still keep going.

"Does she love you, colonel?"

He managed a jerky nod.

"Then I think that is what is holding her here and not letting her pass through Hakur's door. Jalke is a sucker for love and she may also be keeping her from passing through."

The thought of losing Silver hurt badly and he fastened onto the unfamiliar names. "Hakur? Jalke?"

"How long have you known about vampires?"

"Roughly a week."

Jean closed her eyes. "Shit. This is not the way to learn."

"I agree."

She smiled at him, her eyes sad. Leaning forward, Jean scrubbed her face. "Before I try to explain, colonel, just what do you know about vampires?"

"I've heard her explaining some of it. They came from the other side of the galaxy. Ten thousand years ago, they were forced to leave their home world and wander the galaxy. Thirteen hundred years ago, they arrived on Earth and became human in form. They need blood, or rather life force, to survive. They prefer sex with their blood. They're stronger than Invitroes. There is something about a symbiote. That there are vampires and remal whose symbiote is not exactly active. I wasn't able to have her elaborate at the time. That pretty much covers what I know."

"A decent base. Ok. Hakur and Jalke were real. They were a vampire and a remal, respectively. At the time that they lived, vampires enslaved the remal, with all the bad images that brings to mind. Hakur fell in love with Jalke. He freed her and took her as his consort. Started all sorts of riots. He found others like himself and drew up the Covenant. Never let it be said that one individual can not change the course of things."

"What is the Covenant?"

"It is what binds the vampires and remal together in life. The Covenant states that no vampire shall drink unto the Death an unwilling life. It also sets up the way we are governed. A vampire rules the Family as Dalian, the defender of the Covenant, and a remal is the High Priest, the keeper of the Covenant, the Hnom. Many times they are consorts, but not always. It is not unusual to have the High Priest be from another family. The successor is always found by the current High Priest."

"And the Dalian successor?"

"Is someone from that line. It has stretched unbroken for twenty-six thousand years. Never straying to more than the equivalent of a cousin."

The thought of a family history that stretched back past the beginnings of human history staggered McQueen's imagination. He forced himself back to the original question. "So this Hakur took Jalke for his consort and ultimately changed the society."

"Within his lifetime. By the time of their deaths, they were honored for giving vampires and remal a new way of living."

"Can you give me a better understanding of remal?"

"We are the brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, lovers, and friends. We love the vampires and they love us. We are a part of each other, two halves of the same creature. Does that help?"

"With what she told me, yes. I take it you are a remal."

"Yes."

"Back to Hakur and Jalke."

"Over time, they became quite revered and they became not gods, but more like the status that angels hold. Hakur guards the doorway into the afterlife. He determines if the applicant has lived a worthy enough life to enter. If they haven't, sometimes they are sent back to live again, but mostly if they have lived truly evil lives, they are forced to sit to the sides of the stairway and watch others enter. Those who are deemed worthy are given a choice, to pass through or live again. Many choose to live again, being able to remember any and all previous lives."

"And Jalke, what role does she play in all this?"

"She is the one who tries to see good in every soul. But even Dark Ones get no compassion from her. Do you know what a Dark One is?"

"A vampire gone evil. The legend."

"Yes. And I shouldn't say that Dark Ones get no compassion. There is the story of one Dark One. His name was Rnol. It was on a planet very far away. He had risen to power, holding the Dalian captive. But when an ancient enemy found the planet and started firing on the planet's population, Rnol gathered all of the Family that he could and put them on space ships. Then he drew the enemy's attention onto himself, allowing the Family to escape. He was destroyed, but Jalke argued that he gave his life to insure the continuance of the race. For that, he is allowed to sit upon the steps leading to the afterlife. In the last five thousand years, he has advanced to the third step out of ten. The day will come when he will be allowed to choose."

McQueen shook his head. "I can accept reincarnation, but I can't accept the idea of a supreme being that allows such misery."

"The Master Engineer," Jean smiled as he stared at her. "The Master Engineer set it all in motion and gave all sentience life free will. What they do with it is their own decisions. Every soul will face a reckoning when the life they lead is over. Each race has its own set of guardians under the Master Engineer. For the vampires, the lead ones are now Hakur and Jalke. For humanity, I don't know. The Christian angels and Christ, I'm pretty sure, but few races are so split in their religion."

"And Invitroes? Where do they fall?"

"Do not doubt yourself, Colonel. You are human. The soul in your eyes is all too real. But I've seen too many Invitroes whose souls were destroyed while they were young. They will be reborn. The men responsible for destroying those souls will have a lot to account for when they face their reckoning. Do not worry about others, colonel. Continue living your life as you have. From what I know, you are an exceptional man."

McQueen frowned, shaking his head. "Enough religion. Silver at Hakur's door. She has not passed through, correct?"

"Right. She would be dead. Nothing would bring her back. I believe that Jalke holds her there. She has a soft spot for lovers and has been known to work to reunite them."

"But we're not, not truly. We, no, I, I only discovered what she means to me recently."

"Jalke knows, colonel. Don't worry." Jean rose and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Silver will return. Her time here is not up yet."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. She will return to you. Not many get a second chance, colonel."

"I know." McQueen sighed. "What about Griffon?"

"I'm pretty sure he'll be coming back. He's been badly injured, but I think the team will bring him back."

"What is this team I've sent for?"

"Specialists in dealing with vampires in this condition."

McQueen felt a yawn trying to escape.

"You must be tired, colonel. I'll get you a pillow and blanket. Then you can curl up around her and sleep for a while."

About to say no, he glanced down at Silver. "Does she know I'm here?"

"It's quite possible."

"Then please. I would appreciate it."

Jean slipped out the doors.

Stroking Silver's fur, McQueen felt a presence enter the room. "Yes, Hawkes?"

"I just wanted to see her."

"It's all right, Hawkes. Come here."

Hawkes crouched beside him. Tentatively, he reached out and stroked the silky fur. He did not meet his superior's eyes. "I was listening."

"I figured you would."

"I'm not scared off. I am afraid, but I think... I think I still want to learn and see if it is for me."

McQueen nodded. "Fair enough. We'll talk about it when Silver is up to it."

"Ok. Thank you."

"Are you still on guard duty?"

"No. Shane and Vanessa are. They've eaten. West went to grab a bite."

"Get some rest, Hawkes. Tomorrow, I want all of you to spend some time in the gym. The day after, we're going to resume our regular schedule."

"Yes, sir."

"Hawkes, tell Shane that I want the squad to meet me for dinner in the Officer's Mess at 1800 tonight."

"Yes, sir."

Hawkes left and, a moment later, Jean returned. Lying down on the blanket, his arm tucked up under the pillow, McQueen wrapped his free arm over Silver and hugged her tight. He closed his eyes.

"Colonel."

McQueen snapped awake, resisting the urge to strike out. He knew the voice. "Yes, Hawkes?" Opening his eyes, he saw Hawkes a judicious distance away.

"The Commodore sent word that you are to report to the bridge."

Rolling away from Silver, McQueen staggered to his feet. He ran his hand over his face. "Tell him I'll be right up. How long have I slept?"

"Four hours, sir."

Nodding, McQueen headed for the bathroom.

He arrived on the bridge ten minutes later. "Sir?"

Ross stood near the view port. "We appear to have some guests, McQueen. Do you know anything about this?" He gestured out the view port.

A sleek one-piece vessel hovered over a landing pad. The length of an ISSCV, it bore no resemblance to a military vessel. McQueen took a closer look and revised his opinion. Tucked up underneath were two rail guns and he spotted what he thought might be a cover for a roof rail gun.

"I think they're here for Griffon and Silver, sir."

"They've asked to speak to you on landing."

McQueen grimaced. "Yes, sir."

"I'm curious as to why they want to talk to you."

"Let's go find out, sir."

With a grin, Ross headed for the door, McQueen right behind him.

McQueen forced himself to stand still in the landing bay viewing area. He had no idea why someone from this ship would want to talk to him. Atmosphere filled the bay and the door opened. Eight figures in jet-black uniforms strode through the bay, straight for the airlock. McQueen frowned, more Black Forces. As the airlock started to open, he spotted a ninth person exit the ship, slowly. Shocked, McQueen could only stare.

"Who is it, McQueen?"

"Dr. Jacob Silver, her brother. One of my doctors and my chief physical therapist."

"Don't like him?"

"I never got a chance to know him. I respect him. He didn't have an easy job."

Anything Ross might have said was postponed by the approach of the eight black clad men and women. "Where are they?" demanded a blond man.

"Sickbay," answered Ross.

The blond nodded. "Thank you. We'll take care of things."

As the Black Forces personnel vanished down the corridor, Ross said quietly, "Ty, I think you better take care of Dr. Silver. He looks a bit lost and like he needs a familiar face, even if it's yours."

Scowling, McQueen said, "Better me than you, sir."

Laughing, Ross said, "See if he wants to attend this impromptu dinner you're having in two hours."

"Damn. I lost track of time." McQueen shook his head. "I don't know if he'll be up to it, but he would be an excellent person to have there."

"Thought so."

Resisting the urge to punch his friend in the arm, hard, McQueen turned to the airlock as Jacob Silver stepped wearily through. Four inches short of six foot, Jacob's body had the lean hungry look of a hard working doctor who forgot to eat from time to time. The same dark brown hair, cut short, framed the long thin face, lined with pain. Jeans accentuated the narrow hips and waist and a Levi jacket covered the thin chest. From experience, McQueen knew that there was a lot of strength housed in that thin frame. Hazel eyes filled with aching pain and fear fixed on him and McQueen involuntarily took a step forward. "Dr. Silver." He tried to put all the reassurance he could into the two words.

"Call me Jake. Dr. Silver is my father. I'm always looking around for him when I'm addressed as Dr. Silver." A sad smile on the slightly too wide mouth and Jake held out his hand. "How are you doing, McQueen? Any problem with the leg or the ear?"

"No problems with either. This is Commodore Ross. He commands the Saratoga." He took the man's hand and endured the intense scrutiny.

Jake nodded and released his hold on McQueen's hand. He took Ross' proffered hand and shook it. "Lysa's told me a lot about you, sir. Pleased to meet you at last, though, I'd rather it wasn't this way."

"I understand. And the last time you were here, you didn't stay long enough to even leave your ship." Ross gestured to the ship.

"It's not the Trojan Horse, but it's a lot faster. A member of the family had to come, in a non-professional role. I'm here purely in a personal role, unfortunately. How is she? And Griffon?"

Ross nodded to McQueen.

With a sigh, McQueen said, "All I know is it's bad. She took some really bad injuries while on deep reconnaissance. It looked like she was healing. Apparently last night, she was unable to sleep. Griffon went in to see her this morning. He came out long enough to tell the staff that they weren't to come in under any circumstances and then went back in. I wasn't there, but I saw the shape the room was in later. Everything was broken. Griffon had been ripped open and Lysa had reverted back to primal form. Griffon told me to send the message."

"Well, that certainly answers a few of the other questions." Jake sighed. "Is there someplace to get a cup of coffee?"

"Coffee or something stronger?" asked Ross.

"I have no objection to something stronger."

"I have rum and scotch in my quarters." Ross gave the man a sympathetic look.

"Don't tell me you're into grog. That would be like... too unbelievable to find someone else who likes the stuff." Jake shook his head. "Peter and I are about the only two I know who like the stuff."

"Better make that three. He loves the stuff." McQueen folded his arms and gave his best friend a cool stare. "Makes him feel connected to the sailors of times long gone by."

Ross growled under his breath. "McQueen, I'll get you for that."

"I could really use a drink, gentlemen. Can the revenge wait that long?"

"Damn. I forgot they've got your hearing." Ross shook his head with a wry grin.

Jake gave Ross a hard look, and then turned to McQueen. "I have the feeling that there's a lot going on here that I don't want to know about. So, how about that drink and then you answer a few of my questions. After that, I'll need to eat. It's been twenty hours since I last had a decent meal."

"Hm. Think you can survive on a snack and eat in about two hours?" asked McQueen.

"Why?" Jake narrowed his gaze.

"Well, I have this dinner engagement in two hours. I'm supposed to explain what has happened here to the head of Sickbay and the commodore. I've also invited the rest of the squadron, since they've decided to keep Silver. And there's Nurse Temple, who says she can do some explaining to the rest of us, since I know I don't understand everything. Hell, I'm still getting used the to the idea that you folks actually exist."

Jake went very still. After a long moment, he said softly, "I think I better have a couple of drinks and then you tell me just what the hell has gone on here."

"Don't worry. None of the people involved will talk."

"Now I'm really worried. Can we go now, please?"

Silently Ross led the way to his quarters. Outside, he signaled his steward and discreetly sent him for sandwiches and coffee for his guests. From his small bar, Ross poured two rums and a scotch, handing the others their drinks before he picked up his rum. "Please, have a seat."

Jake gave the room a serious look before settling in the chair that had the least wear and tear. "What did you send that young man off for?"

"Coffee and sandwiches."

With a nod, Jake leaned back.

Silence reigned until the steward returned, bearing a covered tray. The young man set it down on the desk and left without a word. Uncovering the tray, Ross smiled at the three sandwiches and coffee mugs. "The scamp. Determined to make sure I eat. Help yourselves."

Ross took a sandwich and a mug, settling back into his favorite chair.

McQueen nodded to the tray, making sure Jake understood he was to pick next.

With a sigh, Jake took a sandwich and a coffee. He watched as McQueen took the last set and sat down, instantly starting to eat like a man who hadn't eaten for a long time. His sandwich in hand, Jake took a bite, his appetite eaten away by misgivings. It returned with a rush and he devoured his sandwich and coffee. The empty mug on the desk, Jake sank back in the chair and sipped his rum.

"All right, McQueen. Start talking. Who, what, where, how?"

The sharp tone would normally have set McQueen on edge, but he knew vampires were paranoid about their secrecy. "Forgot why." Before Jake could snarl, McQueen smiled softly. "It's all right, Jake. I was serious about my remark earlier. None of the ones involved will talk. Let's see, where to start."

It took McQueen nearly forty-five minutes to relate the tale to Jake. Through it all, Jake sat silently, growing still and pale.

"That brings us up to this morning." McQueen took a drink from his scotch, wishing it were some of Silver's stock. At the taste, his eyes widened as he realized that it was and he knew when Ross had gotten it.

Abruptly, Jake finished his rum in a single gulp and held it out to Ross. "Another one, please."

Pouring, Ross said, "Are you all right?"

"Just peachy," snapped Jake. With a visible effort, he said, "Sorry, but we had no idea things were this bad. Lysa's been fairly closemouthed about her situation out here and our parents have respected her privacy. Now I wish that we had done some checking up on her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Only three to sustain her for three months and then three months on a planet in the middle of nowhere. Throw in life threatening injuries and it's a sure mixture for disaster." Shaking his head, Jake said, "I knew something was wrong when her effects showed up. She's never sent them home before. I'm glad no one told Cassie at the time."

"She had no idea if we'd be able to get to her when the time to extract her arrived." McQueen faced his own demons. "And she had no idea if I would come for her. She could only hope and it was slim at best as far as she knew."

"And now?"

"I need to understand more before deciding on whether to bond with her or any other vampire."

"Fair enough. And that's why you want me to talk at this dinner?"

"Partly. I also think that the people who'll be there deserve to understand what they'll be dealing with, then they can decide if they want that extra danger."

"What's one more danger in the middle of a bloody war zone?" Ross sighed.

"You're right. They do deserve to know what they'll be dealing with. I'll talk to your group. But first, I want to go to Sickbay. Everything should be under control there by now."

"Just what were they going to do?" asked McQueen.

"Give them both vampiric blood, enough to get them over the immediate danger. That's what Griffon was attempting to do for Lysa. Only I suspect her injuries were so severe that he couldn't give her enough and didn't realize it until this morning. So she lost control and barely kept from killing him outright."

"Oh, God." McQueen bowed his head, a shudder running through him at the thought of losing her. He remembered the flight back and how many times she had lost control. "I should have known. The flight back, she had difficulty keeping control. She nearly killed me twice, no, three times, then she gave me blood to heal me."

"That's part of what really worries me. How badly drained she was by the time she got here. Russell and the others should have known better. They've dealt with this before. It should never have gotten this bad."

"They were worried, really worried. At the end of the flight, they were able to give her some blood, but not until then."

"McQueen, the fact that they couldn't have before that point should have been told to Griffon and he would have sent for the team before this happened. They knew this." Jake stood and paced. "They've been on enough of these missions to know what is normal and what is not."

"How many involved Silver and the man they knew she loved?"

Jake glared at Ross. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Silver is thinking about asking McQueen to be her consort."

"What?" Jake snapped erect, shock in his face. "She's what?"

"Is he unacceptable to you? Because of what he is?" Ross growled.

Taken aback by Ross' sudden attack, Jake blinked and frowned. "Unacceptable? Hell, no. His being a Invitro doesn't matter. It's the idea that she's even considering offering consort to someone. Our parents have been after her for years to declare a consort. She's always refused. For the last ten years almost, she's always met their demands for a consort with excuses. To have her suddenly decide to, it's a shock is all."

"I believe it was part of why she wanted me to enroll in your father's regeneration project." McQueen sat quietly, taking a sip of his scotch. "So that your parents, and her daughter could at least meet me."

"I wouldn't put it past her. She's a wily one Lysa is, hard to figure out sometimes. You're sure about this?"

Ross nodded.

"I see I have a lot to talk to my little sister about." Jake sat back in his chair, shaking his head. "About time, little sis, but why now? We're in the middle of a bloody war, for Christ sake."

"Does that really make a difference?"

"No, commodore, not really. There will be more wars. The universe is not a nice place."

"How do you know that?"

Jake gave McQueen a hard look. "We have a racial memory. We remember the trials our people had to get to Earth. There were at least twenty or thirty other races out there, and those were just the ones we ran into. It's possible that we will be able to bridge the gap between them and Earth, if we already know the other race. But there were others we never met. Misunderstandings will occur. A strong military will always be necessary, I'm afraid."

"The only real good thing that this war will produce is a unified Earth," stated Ross. He took a drink.

"Yes. AeroTech's mistake is in letting this war continue as long as it will. They prospered extremely well under a divided Earth. The countries of Earth will have learned cooperation is desirable." Jake's voice held amusement.

"I'm glad our dying gives you occasion to laugh." McQueen frowned.

"Never. It's the thought that when the war is finally over, AeroTech will find itself struggling to rebuild its power base."

"With any luck," McQueen said dryly. "But don't discount the people in charge, especially Hayden. No doubt, she's already realized this and is planning something. After all, she is the Secretary General."

"True, but even she has her enemies, who realize her real agenda, despite appearances to the contrary." Jake smiled. "The truth behind AeroTech's and Hayden's connection to the Chigs is known now to certain groups. They'll work to control the damage done as much as possible. There are others working on winning contracts with the military so that AeroTech is not the only supplier of your hardware. You'll be getting better equipment in the near future."

Ross sighed. "We just have to live long enough to see it."

"I thought we were holding our own or slightly better." Jake frowned.

"Chigs have built Super Hive Ships. Silver found out about three more." Shaking his head, Ross said, "We have nothing heavy enough to stand against the damn things. The last battle the old 'Toga here had with them nearly spelled her doom. I'm not looking forward to the next one. It just might be her last."

Jake bowed his head. "There are no carriers in the works at any of the ship yards I've seen in the last six months."

"And it'll take at least a year to start from scratch." Ross tossed back the remains of his drink. "Damn. We need heavy ships, not destroyers. Carriers and battleships. More fighters."

"The Jupiter Shipyard should be up and running by the end of the month." McQueen finished his scotch. "It'll help some."

Nodding, Ross said, "Let's hope that the bureaucrats are not the ones in charge there. We need a military man who knows what's needed out here."

"General McIntyre has the choice of deciding who will run the facility."

"Thank God." Ross slumped slightly. "He'll insure the administrator knows what we need. A few more tenders wouldn't be a bad idea. I suspect we're going to need repair ships desperately in the near future."

"You have that feeling, too?" McQueen gave his best friend a sharp look.

"Yes."

"If Lysa does too, then I'll pass the word back that those on the front are certain that things are going to pick up again." Jake smiled sadly. "We may not be a military family, but we have tight ties to several who are. Lysa's the first in several generations to choose the military, but she has the gift for it." He chuckled. "Hell, she was always planning campaigns and initiating them to get whatever she wanted, and she was never afraid to fight for it. Her and Peter had several knock down, drag out fights that were, shall we say, spectacular. Peter always seemed to lose them."

"Sounds like her."

"McQueen, don't ever get her angry with you. I mean really angry. I've seen her, once. Everything, and I mean everything, becomes a handy projectile and she rarely misses. Then she waded in and started taking the poor bastard apart. It was only her strict control that kept her from killing him." Jake stared McQueen in the eyes. "She doesn't scream, just gets quiet. Her voice is low, deadly. She'll go completely still. Her eyes will go dark gray. If you even suspect it's aimed at you, run. Get as much distance as you can between you and her for about an hour. It'll be safe after that. The physical storm will have passed. Then you just have to deal with her tongue."

"That's sharp enough." McQueen stared into the empty glass, wanting but knowing better than to have another.

"Indeed. She can flay with that tongue when she gets going. It doesn't help that she has intelligence training. She'll use it against you, if you piss her off. Otherwise, she's pretty good about not using her skills against someone." Jake finished his drink. "It's something that our parents drilled into us. We have a lot of things we can and cannot do. Makes it a pain growing up and hampers us sometimes. But it's the way of the vampire until we can become an acknowledged, integral part of humanity. That is a long way off in the future."

Jake set his empty glass on the desk. "All right, enough of this. I want to see Lysa."

"I'll take you." McQueen stood up, taking his glass and Jake's over to the bar. "See you, Glen, at 1800, ok?"

"Yes."

In Sickbay, McQueen found Dr. Connelly at the nurses' station, checking charts. "Doctor, this is Dr. Jake Silver. He's her brother."

"Nice to meet you." Connelly extended a hand.

"And you, doctor. I understand you've been trying to take care of my sister. And she's been a bit uncooperative lately."

"That's an understatement. Can you shed some light on the appearance of eight new individuals?"

"They are here to help Lysa and Griffon, doctor. Afterward, both of them will be no trouble to you. The particular problems that they have will be taken care of." Jake nodded as Connelly gave him a look of understanding.

"Good." She turned to McQueen. "Is dinner still on?"

"Yes, but there'll be a few more people. I'm bringing the 5-8 and Dr. Silver here as well."

Connelly laughed softly. "Scared to have dinner alone, colonel?"

"No. Just don't have all the answers, doctor."

"Who does?" She patted his arm lightly. "I understand. Colonel, my curiosity has been eating away at me all day. I've done my best not to pester Nurse Temple, but it's been tough."

McQueen glanced at his timepiece. "Thirty minutes to go, I'm afraid."

"Time enough for me to get cleaned up. I'll see you there. No need to come for me or send one of your nice young Marines." Connelly turned and walked away.

Seeing the appraising way Jake was studying Connelly, McQueen smiled to himself. Jake was still single and so was Connelly. "Jake, I need to arrange for replacement guards on Silver while we're at dinner, unless you think everything will be fine before then."

"Guards?" Jake obviously had to jerk his attention back to McQueen. "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary. Not with those eight around."

"I didn't think it would be necessary with Griffon around."

Jake's lips tightened. "You're right. But eight of them can handle Lysa. No way she'll get loose. Don't worry. Everything should be under control. Just let me check in with them."

McQueen led the way the way to where Hawkes and West were standing. "This is Silver's brother, Dr. Jake Silver. He needs to go in and speak to the people who came in earlier."

"Ok, Colonel. They were sort of expecting him a while ago." Hawkes watched Jake go through the door. "Sir, you should have heard the swearing those folks did when they went in. They were really upset about the situation."

"As well they should have been."

"Sir, they sounded like they knew both Griffon and Silver. But they were referring to them as Colonel' and Major.' Sir, is she a BF Major?"

"Yes, Hawkes. She is."

"That explains how good she is." West smiled briefly. "Think she'll pass some of that training onto us, sir?"

"What makes you think she hasn't been?"

Hawkes grinned. "But she's never used the moves the way Griffon did."

"Eat one meal a day, Hawkes, for three months and see how well you do." McQueen gave the young Marine a mock frown. "Use your head. Think about the information you've learned. Put it together. I know there's a brain in that thick skull of yours."

Instead of looking angry at the words, Hawkes merely nodded, surprising West.

"Hey, what have you done with Hawkes?" West couldn't resist the ribbing.

"I'm me. I just know he's right. I should have known why she hasn't been moving like Griffon. I just didn't think about it."

Jake stepped out. "It's all right, McQueen. She's started to seriously heal. So is Griffon. It'll probably be morning before you get to see her again."

McQueen stared past Jake, wanting to see her just once more.

"I'm sorry, McQueen. But she's off limits right now to anyone not one of us."

"They kicked Jean out as soon as they got here, sir." West shrugged. "She didn't look exactly happy about it, but she said that there was nothing she could do in there."

"Eight in the morning, McQueen. They'll let you in then if everything has gone well during the night."

"And if it hasn't?"

"You'll know." Jake started to pat McQueen's arm, but pulled his hand back.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Don't worry. After what I saw in there, I'm sure you'll be able to see her then." Jake nodded toward the two young Marines. "Aren't these two of the ones you want to join us?"

"Yes. Hawkes, West, go get cleaned up for dinner. Don't dress up. Just make sure you're clean and in clean uniforms. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir," West and Hawkes chorused before trotting off.

"And yourself?" Jake gave McQueen's rumpled flight suit a quick look.

"Do you need a set of quarters?" McQueen was mindful of the fact that Jake's attire stuck out among all the military personnel.

"No. I think I'll wear what I'm wearing and I'll sleep on the ship. We'll most likely be leaving late tomorrow morning."

"Do you mind waiting in my quarters while I clean up?"

"If you'll let me use the bathroom for a few minutes."

"Not a problem. This way."

In his quarters, McQueen let his guest use the facilities first. He hesitated only briefly before stripping down to his shorts. After all, Jake already had an intimate knowledge of his body.

Jake stepped out of the bathroom and paused for a split second, drinking in the sight of the near naked body. "Damn."

Glancing up, McQueen saw the look in Jake's eyes. "What the hell is it with you vampires? Three out of three start drooling as soon as they see me."

"Can't explain it, McQueen, but it goes all the way back to your first physical therapy session. But I knew better than to follow up." Jake leaned against the wall, his eyes enjoying the view.

Determined to resist the internal heat the steamy look gave him, McQueen started for the bathroom. He paused in the doorway. "Jake, on those later runs, did you run on two or four legs?"

"Two. Though at the end there, I was tempted to run on all fours."

McQueen nodded. He showered quickly; remembering the first run that Jake had subjected him to once he was able to walk unaided. A mile out from the medical complex that the Silver's owned, Jake had both of them dropped off at the side of the road with a canteen of water apiece in the evening.

With a wave of his hand, Jake had said, "Dinner is that way. The sooner we get there, the sooner we eat. For the first several of these, I'll stay right here with you. After that, I'll be nearby, ready to come if you need help."

"You believe in training by fire."

"Lysa said you had three weeks tops if you were going to make the deadline for getting re-qualified and re-certified. This is the fastest way I know. And it provides the most incentive. Don't you agree?"

McQueen's stomach had growled and he knew that a good real meal waited for him, only a mile away. "Yes." He had started walking.

It had taken him over thirty minutes to walk a single mile, on a flat level road. Three times, his regrown lower leg had cramped up and Jake had been there instantly, his sure fingers massaging the muscle knots out.

The next evening it had taken just under thirty minutes even with a single cramp. Twenty-five minutes the following evening with no cramps and then Jake had taken them five miles out in the morning and forced him to jog for short distances. Lunch was to be the reward for that grueling run, with another run in the afternoon in the opposite direction with dinner at the end.

McQueen had come to enjoy the runs immensely after that. The Pacific Northwest area of the US had so much variation in its landscape. Once he could jog five miles twice a day, Jake had stopped running beside him and merely paced him somewhere out of sight. Jake had also taken them to different areas every couple of days. Roads became the exception rather than the rule quickly. The runs had gone through deserts, forests, rain forest, high altitude mountain slopes and seashores, all within an hour's flight from the medical complex. The uneven terrain that Jake insisted that he traverse had swiftly hardened his new limb and forced the rest of him into shape. Even when Jake had started loading him down with combat gear and extended the runs out to twenty miles, it hadn't dampened his enjoyment of the scenery. Rivers, forests, mountains, and deserts, he had taken them in stride by the end of the three weeks.

A grin crossed McQueen's lips as he remembered what Jake had said the time he had protested the combat gear, not thinking he was up to it. "McQueen, the Roman Legions marched twenty miles a day minimum, carrying nearly ninety pounds of equipment on their backs. That included a shield on their left arm. Surely, you can do at least twenty miles in a day with only thirty pounds." He had never complained again, realizing that if he pushed, Jake was all too likely to increase his load to that ninety pounds.

"You appear to have kept in shape."

Jake's voice snapped McQueen from his remembrances. "I don't do twenty miles, but I get in ten, in combat gear. In fact the entire squadron does now. There's only so many times you can run through the corridors before someone is ready to shoot you."

"And planet side?"

"Usually too busy fighting. Most of the time we don't stay long enough to learn the terrain."

Jake nodded. "Don't want to run into a mine field."

"Or the enemy."

"Definitely a downer."

McQueen opened his closet and pulled out a fresh turtleneck.

"What's with the turtleneck anyway?"

Startled, McQueen glanced down at the shirt. "I started wearing them to hide the scars on my neck. I know they're mostly gone, but it's habit now and everyone expects me to wear them. It makes them, and me, uncomfortable when I don't."

"It's become a talisman."

"Sort of." McQueen pulled the turtleneck on.

"Just like the black flight suit. I noticed that yours was the only black one."

"It's my way of honoring the 127th." Grabbing a fresh flight suit, McQueen started dressing in it. "For a while there, I thought about getting rid of it, but I couldn't. Not even after losing my leg. It represents too much of what I am, who I am. I can't get rid of it."

"I understand."

McQueen glanced at Jake and saw that the man was telling the truth.

"My jeans are pretty much the same thing. I could have used the family money to fund my schooling. I didn't. I worked my way through medical school, just like my grandfather. I went through a pair of jeans every month. And I still wear them, even now. I only wear slacks when it's an important social occasion."

McQueen nodded, sitting down to pull on his boots. In minutes, he rose. "Ready for dinner?"

"Most definitely. I'm starving."

Three hours later, McQueen rubbed his hand over his face, feeling his exhaustion. He hated the fact that his body still hadn't fully recovered from the ordeal of retrieving Silver. With a sigh, he picked up his coffee and started drinking it.

"I think you need a stiffener in that coffee."

McQueen gave Ross a quick smile, letting it fade. "I won't sleep if I do." He set the mug down.

"Ty, with the amount of coffee you've drunk in the last three hours, I don't think a stiffener will make much of a difference." Ross pulled his hand from behind his back and poured a generous amount into his friend's coffee. "Rank hath its privileges."

"I thought I was the only one left."

"I came back."

Slumping back into his chair, McQueen murmured, "Thanks, Glen."

"I get the feeling that you didn't learn as much as you were hoping to." Ross sat down beside his best friend, adding some scotch to his own coffee.

"True. But I think the squad and Dr. Connelly learned a lot."

"Yes. Enough that the good doctor knows she needs a doctor experienced with vampires." Ross chuckled. "I still see that look in her eyes when she insisted that I get her a knowledgeable doctor. A touch of fear there, but she's willing to deal with the situation."

"And she didn't run screaming from the room. Especially when Jake showed her what his fangs looked like, and how Nurse Temple reacted to his tasting her blood." McQueen shook his head. "I get the feeling there's more to the good nurse than meets the eye."

"Well, she'll be a help to the doctor that Jake has in mind."

"Glen, what are the odds that there's a doctor ready to send to us in a month once they've finished their Navy training?" McQueen frowned, feeling manipulated.

"Under normal circumstances, not likely. But maybe they were planning to send one here already."

"That scares me." McQueen took a deep drink. "The thought that they were anticipating Silver staying here. What did they know?"

Ross wondered if he should mention the soul mates issue and decided that it was a matter for Silver to bring up. "Maybe they were just hopeful it would work out."

"If she can get her soul mate to accept everything."

"How long were you listening, Ty?"

"Most of the conversation. Sorry. She and I have talked about it. I still have some thinking to do on the subject."

"Ty, I never took you for an eavesdropper." Ross shook his head.

"I just couldn't bring myself to interrupt and I wanted to know what she had to say. I won't do it again. I'm sorry, Glen."

"I think you're saying it because you're expected to. But I'm not angry. A little shocked. I just never pictured you eavesdropping."

"I listened because I needed to know, but knew I'd have trouble asking. Once I had the information, I was able to ask the follow-up questions."

"Turning chicken in your old age?"

"No. Just occasionally having trouble with the emotional and social questions. It's hard to know how to phrase the questions without giving offense sometimes."

"Ty, neither Silver or I will take offense. Surely you know that?"

"I know it up here," McQueen tapped his head, "but down here is a different story." He tapped his chest. "Ten years and I still have the feeling of missing things that appear obvious to everyone else."

"Sometimes you are, Ty. But mostly I think it's your own sense of insecurity." Ross sighed and took a drink of his generously spiked coffee. "Ty, I've met a lot of Invitroes over the years. You have one of the most advanced sets of social skills. That's a hell of an achievement."

"Doesn't seem like I've learned all that much. Look at the mess I created with Silver."

"Ty, you're human. We all make mistakes. Especially in relationships."

Stiffening his back, McQueen asked softly, "Have I damaged our friendship, Glen?"

"No, Ty. Not in the least."

Releasing his held breath, McQueen relaxed slightly. "I had to know for sure. I figured twenty-four hours would be long enough."

"Long enough for me to kick myself for not letting you know sooner." Ross chuckled. "It's water under the bridge. Can't change the past."

"And despite what people might think, I've no desire to change the past. Everything that's happened to me has made me who I am today." McQueen drank some more. "I'm tired, Glen but I don't really want to sleep alone tonight."

"What about the squad?"

McQueen shook his head. "No. They'll need the time to understand what they've learned. If I'm with them, they won't discuss it among themselves."

"Probably right. What about-"

"No, Glen."

Ross laughed quietly. "Am I that transparent?"

"It was a logical deduction. Thank you, but no."

"Then how about you help me put some of Silver's belongings back in her quarters?"

"I thought you sent them back to Earth."

"All but a box. I went through them and sorted out some things I figured she would want. The rest I sent back. I kept her quarters off the available list." Ross stood up. "Help me move the stuff into her quarters and if neither of us makes it back to our rooms, well, we fell asleep putting stuff away."

Grinning, McQueen stood up. "Lead on, oh devious one."

It was two hours before the two men sank down onto the bed, side by side. They had to drag the box up from the storage unit that Ross had placed it in and the sergeant had taken nearly twenty minutes to find it. The sterile quarters now held a hint at the person they belonged to, and he had a better idea of Silver's personality as well as Glen's.

The things that Ross had kept behind were a mixture of both practical and personal. Three uniforms, two pairs of boots, underclothes, socks; these all fell under the practical. The optical reader, several music discs, a handful of data discs, five books, some knick knacks, the dreaded bunny slippers, and pictures of Cassie comprised the personal and he wondered briefly why Ross had picked those particular items. Then he thought of his own meager belongings. What would Ross have kept for him under similar circumstances? The only personal items he could think of that might be kept for him were the pictures of the Angry Angels and his kids and possibly a couple of books. He realized that he needed to expand his personal possessions slightly.

"Glen, did you think about packing my stuff when I was getting fitted for that damn fake leg?"

"Briefly. But I decided that I'd wait and see. I'm glad I did."

"So am I." McQueen sighed. "But I realize that I don't have a lot of personal stuff. A bunch of books and pictures."

"But those are just as telling, Ty. Now, stop analyzing and relax." Ross shoved McQueen down onto the bed. "Get some sleep."

"You should too." McQueen started to get up.

"I will. But I'm not recovering from a harrowing ordeal, and injuries. I've been safe and sound for the last week." Ross held McQueen down. "Just go to sleep like a good Marine, hm? You know, instantly asleep, no matter the surroundings."

"Wish."

"Give it a try."

"Ok. But don't expect it to work."

A grin spread across Ross' face as fifteen minutes later McQueen softly snored. He gently removed McQueen's boots, spread a blanket over the sleeping man, turned the lights down low, and let himself out, carefully shutting and locking the hatch behind him. He figured that sleeping in Silver's quarters would do the trick for McQueen.

McQueen woke to the softly insistent voice of his best friend. "Come on, McQueen. I have a situation here. I really need your help."

"What is it?" McQueen rolled over onto his side and sat up, realizing that he was in Silver's quarters. Ross, wisely, stood at the foot of the bed.

"We have an unauthorized visitor. I think you better go down to ISSCV Landing Bay 2."

"Who is it?"

"Just go." Ross frowned. "I really want you to deal with this first."

Pulling on the boots he didn't remember taking off, McQueen asked, "Who is it, Glen?"

"I'm not sure, but I have a guess. Just please think before speaking."

"Now you have me really worried." McQueen stood up.

"Look, Ty, everything in me says you need to talk to our visitor first. Ok?"

McQueen nodded. "All right. What time is it?"

"One in the morning."

"Ok. I'm on my way."

"I think I'll wait right here."

McQueen forced himself not to think about the situation until he arrived at the landing bay. As he strode into the bay, he saw a MP sergeant outside the nearest briefing room. "I take it our visitor' is in there?"

"Yes, colonel. Tired, hungry and scared. But the commodore wanted to wait before getting her some food." The MP stepped aside. "He said you would be taking care of her, sir."

A bad feeling swept through McQueen and he nodded, suddenly unable to talk.

The MP opened the door.

McQueen stepped through and froze just past the door. He heard the MP close the door, but his eyes were glued to the huddled form in the nearest seat. Blonde hair coiled about the thin shoulders, which he saw were shaking slightly.

"Ty, McQueen, Colonel, I'm in big trouble, aren't I?" The hazel eyes stared up at him, scared.

"I'm afraid so, Cassie."

"Is Mom here?"

"Yes."

"Is she alive?"

"Yes."

"Thank God. After her stuff arrived, everyone started acting weird. I mean I know she never sent her stuff home before, but no one would talk to me. They all said Mom was fine."

"No one told you what was going on?" McQueen walked over and crouched down, resting his hand on a lean thigh.

"No one. Then Uncle Jake took a call in the middle of the night and just left. I figured something else was wrong. I have to talk to Mom, Colonel. I have to. It's very important."

"You can't right now."

"What's wrong? Is it because of Mom that Uncle Jake left so fast?"

"Yes. Your mother is very ill right now."

"Is she going to die?"

McQueen shook his head. "I don't think so. Cassie, why did you come here?"

"I have to talk to her."

"About what?"

"Me." Cassie started shaking harder. "I can't explain it. I just know I have to talk to her."

"All right. We'll see what we can do in the morning. I'll do what I can do to smooth things over. How about we go to your mother's quarters?"

"She still has quarters here?"

"Yes. The commodore kept them available."

"I'm glad. Where is she, Colonel?"

"Sickbay. And Cassie, I thought we decided that you would call me Ty. After all, you did spend a lot of time with me. Both while I was in the tank and after."

"But you're all better now. And back in the military."

"When we're alone, call me Ty. Ok?"

"Ok, Ty." Cassie hesitated, and then flung her arms around McQueen's neck. "I'm scared, Ty. I don't understand what's happened to Mom."

"I'll try to explain it to you. In her quarters."

"What about the nice man outside?"

"I don't think he'll mind. I'll be taking responsibility for you."

"Uh, oh, that doesn't sound good."

"That means if you get into any mischief on board, I have to answer for it. So-"

"I'll be good, I promise." Cassie crossed her heart.

"Good girl. Now, the MP said you were hungry."

"Yes. I forgot to bring something to eat and I didn't eat breakfast."

"Let's go get Commodore Ross and then we'll get you something to eat." McQueen stood up and held out his hand.

As she took his hand, Cassie looked up at McQueen, though she did not have far to look. "Did she go on a bad mission?"

"Yes."

"Why? She said she never wanted to go on another one." Cassie bit her lip.

McQueen swallowed, knowing he would have to tell Cassie a version of the truth. "I made a mistake and hurt your mother, emotionally. She took the mission before I realized what an idiot I was. When I could, I went to bring her back. But she was badly injured."

"Are you sorry?" Both her eyes and voice were sharp.

"Very, very sorry. And we talked it over."

"Did you kiss and make up?"

The look in Cassie's eyes made McQueen redden. "Well, yes."

"Good."

McQueen opened the door. "Sergeant, I'll be taking responsibility for Ms. Silver here."

"Any relation to the colonel?"

"Her daughter."

"Ah. That explains it." The sergeant looked at Cassie. "I don't ever want to catch you hitching an unauthorized ride, miss. Ever. Go through channels."

"Yes, sir."

McQueen hid a grin, suspecting that the only reason Cassie was being nice had to do with her being exhausted and hungry. Although he suspected that even Silver listened to sergeants. "I'm taking her to get something to eat and then some sleep."

"Is the colonel all right, sir?"

Word had spread. "Yes, sergeant. She is, now."

The sergeant nodded. "Very well, sir. Try to get some sleep."

"Thank you."

McQueen led Cassie through the corridors to her mother's quarters. The entire way she remained quiet, but he saw how she studied everything. He opened the hatch. "In here."

"McQueen?" came Ross' tired voice.

"Yes, sir." As Ross stood up from the desk, McQueen said, "Sir, may I introduce Cassie Silver? Cassie, this is Commodore Glen Ross."

Cassie held out her hand. "Hi. Sorry about how I got here. Mom likes you."

"And I like her." Ross shook her hand. "Now, about you're being here."

"I'm sorry, but I really have to talk to my mom. It's really important."

"Important enough to risk juvenile jail?"

McQueen knew that Ross wouldn't send Cassie to jail.

"Yes, sir." She faced Ross squarely.

"All right. You can see her in the morning. No one, not even your uncle, is seeing her tonight."

"Sir, she needs to eat."

"Let's go."

"Where?" Cassie looked from one to the other, wondering what adventures she was about to witness.

"Officers' Mess," the two men said together, and then laughed.

While Cassie devoured one of Ross' sandwiches and the two men split another, McQueen wondered what could be so important that Cassie had come all the way out here to talk to her mother. He traded concerned looks with Ross.

"Cassie, can you tell me what is so important?"

"Ty, I don't know if I can." She gazed over at him. "Do you know about Mom?"

"I know she's a vampire."

Cassie sighed in relief. "I wasn't sure I could explain it. I've never had to. Do you know when the change comes over us?"

"Puberty." McQueen froze, the sandwich half way to his mouth. "Damn. Not now." He put the sandwich down.

"I... I need Mom." She stared at the table.

Pushing the plate away, McQueen swore. "Damn, damn, damn. That's not all you need. Bloody hell, Cassie, this is a ship of war. Not a floating hotel. You should have stayed home."

"I need Mom. I don't know why, but I need her. It's not supposed to be like this. Any other vampire should be able to take care of me, but all I know is I need her, not them."

Hand over his face, Ross groaned. "Great. That's all I need. It's not bad enough that I have a vampire recovering from near fatal injuries who inflicted near fatal injuries on another vampire. Now I have a vampire child coming into her own to contend with. Why me?"

"Glen-" McQueen shook his head, realizing the damage was done.

"Near fatal?" Cassie's voice was soft.

Ross looked apologetic. "Shit. That's not how you should have found out. Sorry, Cassie, but your mother was seriously injured. We thought she was healing. Then she attacked this Griffon fellow, nearly killing him and herself in the process. Griffon had McQueen send a message out and your uncle Jake responded with eight others. They say she's going to be all right now."

"Cassie, you don't need to worry. She's going to be fine and you can see her in the morning." With a soft smile, McQueen patted her hand. "Now, finish that sandwich so I can put you to bed."

"Will you stay with me? I don't want to be alone."

McQueen nodded. "I know the feeling."

They finished eating in silence.

Ross escorted the two to Silver's quarters. "Do you need a wake up call, Ty?"

"No. I'll wake at my usual time, I think."

"0530."

"Yes."

"Breakfast at 0600?"

"Sounds good."

"Going to introduce her to the squad?"

McQueen grinned. "Yes."

"I'd love to see their faces." Ross chuckled. "Go on, Ty. Get that child to bed. We don't want to piss Silver off."

"She's going to be mad enough as it is without our keeping her daughter from getting any sleep." McQueen shook his head, smiling. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, sir," echoed Cassie.

"Good night, Ty, Cassie."

McQueen opened the hatch. "Come in, Cassie. These are your mother's quarters."

For the next several minutes, McQueen watched Cassie inspect the room. She found the bathroom, used it, came out, checked out the closet and uniforms, and then moved over to the pictures.

"Look, she has pictures of me." In her excitement, Cassie spun around. As she spun, she tripped and McQueen caught her. Putting her back on her feet, he asked, "Why wouldn't she have pictures of you, Cassie? You're her daughter."

"I never see her taking any. I always thought she didn't want them."

"She probably has other family members take the pictures and send them to her."

"Must be." she sighed, sitting on the bed, "Where are you going to sleep?"

"The floor."

"There's plenty of room here." She patted the bed.

"It wouldn't be right, Cassie. Besides, I'm a bad sleeper. I move around a lot and I have nightmares."

"I know."

McQueen snapped his head around. "What? How do you-"

"I watched the monitors sometimes when I had trouble sleeping. I heard the nurses talking. Mom had warned them that you would probably have nightmares and gave them some ideas of how to help you."

"That explains it. I had wondered." McQueen sat on the bed beside Cassie.

"Ty, please. You're the closest thing I have to Mom right now."

With a heavy sigh, McQueen nodded. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Despite his misgivings, she fell asleep almost instantly after he wrapped his arms around her. It took a little longer, but he finally slept, too.

Warmth on his throat woke McQueen and he knew it was wrong. Opening his eyes, he saw Cassie above him, her eyes closed as she breathed in his scent.

"No!" He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her up from his body. McQueen kept his eyes on her, seeing how she struggled to control herself, moving away from him toward the wall. "Cassie, that was a really bad idea."

"I don't know what happened. I woke up and you smelled so good. I had to get closer. I'm sorry." Cassie knelt on the bed, arms wrapped around herself.

McQueen slid off the bed and backed away, aware that even an immature vampire would be more than he could handle. "I think I better find Jake. He should know what to do."

"No, please. Not Uncle Jake. He's part of the reason I'm here. He still thinks I'm a little girl. He's always acting like I'm six years old. I'm thirteen, dammit." Cassie's voice hardened. "I need to get to Mom, and maybe Griffon. He taught Mom."

McQueen risked a glance at his timepiece. 0535. "Can you keep yourself under control for two and a half hours? Seriously under control. Only a handful of people know about vampires. I don't want more rumors spreading."

For a long minute, she rocked back and forth, silent. "I think so. Yes, I can. I can keep control. I will not lose control again."

McQueen stood in thought. If she had answered yes immediately, he would have had grave doubts. But she had taken time to evaluate herself before uttering her certainty. "All right. But if you start to have trouble, tell me. Immediately. I can't risk your losing control among the crew."

"I will tell you. I promise." she crossed her heart. "I know I'm being a bother, but everything in me says I have to see Mom."

McQueen straightened his back and stared down at her. "All right. I want you to stay here while I go to my quarters and change. I'll try to find something clean for you to wear. No one is to come in here, not even the commodore. If he asks, tell him I said so. He'll listen. All right?"

"Mm hm. No one comes in until you come back. Passwords?"

A grin and McQueen said, "Frodo, Samwise."

Cassie grinned back. "Got it."

McQueen locked the hatch behind him and strode to his quarters. He showered quickly and slipped into a clean flight suit. All the while he wondered where to find Cassie something to wear. Then he realized that Cassie was about 'Phousse's height and build. Maybe he could get some clothes from her. But he would have to hurry if he was going to meet the commodore in fifteen minutes.

Despite the crowds in the corridors, McQueen made it to the 58th's barracks in three minutes. There he found the squad getting dressed. "Planning on meeting me for breakfast?"

"Sir, we decided that we needed to resume most of our schedule," explained Vansen.

"It's all right. I'm meeting the commodore at 0600 and you are welcome to join us. Someone I want you to meet will be there. Which is part of why I'm here. 'Phousse, do you have a spare set of clothes? My guest forgot to bring a change of clothes and she's about your size."

"Sure, colonel. Just a sec." Clamping down on her curiosity, 'Phousse rummaged through her footlocker. "Everything?"

"Not quite. Just a shirt."

"But she'll need-"

McQueen shook his head. "No, she doesn't. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about."

"Ok."

Two minutes later, McQueen was headed for Silver's quarters, prizes in hand. He rapped on the door. "Frodo."

"Samwise." The hatch opened.

He thrust the clothes in. "Hurry and get dressed. We're going to be late."

"I've already showered. I'll be right out."

Leaning against the bulkhead, McQueen slowly shook his head. Common sense indeed. Well, she couldn't have stowed away carrying duffel, but she'd used the time he had been gone well.

The door opened two minutes later. "Ready." She was running her fingers through her hair.

"You'll never get it untangled that way." From a pocket, McQueen pulled a comb. "Use this."

Trotting behind him through the corridors, Cassie used the comb as best she could. "Why do you carry a comb? It's not like you need one."

The reference to his not quite buzz cut made McQueen grin. "Like the boy scouts always say, be prepared. You'd be surprised at what I carry around with me, even in my combat gear." He thrust his hand between elevator doors. "Come on."

Cassie used the limited space and time in the elevator to drag the comb through her hair ruthlessly.

"You can't do it that way, kid." A female Navy lieutenant frowned at Cassie. "Give me the comb. You really need someone else to do this part for you. Turn around."

With swift, sure strokes, the lieutenant started clearing the tangles.

"This is our stop," announced McQueen.

The lieutenant followed them out. "I have a couple of minutes before I have to arrive. Let me finish here. Do you know how to braid your hair?"

"No. I've been trying, but I just don't have the knack yet." Cassie sighed.

"All right. I'll braid it quickly. You have a ponytail holder?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Impatient, McQueen forced himself to stand still. He realized that Cassie needed to look presentable.

The lieutenant concentrated and soon had Cassie's hair in a simple braid. Tying it off, she said, "Colonel, I know you need to get her somewhere. But be aware that her hair will need to be re-braided later. Can you do it?"

McQueen shook his head. "Not a skill I acquired."

"Can you make a rope?"

The light went off in his mind. "Got it. Thank you, Lieutenant-"

"Sommers, sir. Just not as tight as a rope and you'll do fine. There, presentable."

McQueen nodded his dismissal and put his hand on Cassie's back, gently propelling her along in the desired direction. Three minutes late already, he thought to himself.

They entered the Officers' Mess and McQueen forced himself to ignore the instant quiet and looks that were shot his way. He led Cassie to the buffet and allowed her to pick out a suitable breakfast while getting himself a plateful of food. Then he maneuvered over to where Ross sat, already eating.

"Sorry about being late. Forgot she needed a change of clothes."

"Where'd you get them?"

"'Phousse."

Ross nodded and returned to his food.

A moment later, the members of the squad entered the mess. They stopped at the table first, their eyes fixed on Cassie. "Sir?" Vansen stood closest to McQueen.

"Are you Cassie?" asked Hawkes.

"Yes."

"How did you figure it out?" demanded West.

"Just how many thirteen year old girls would the colonel be interested in?"

'Phousse smiled. "He's right. Silver's daughter is the only one. Nice to meet you, Cassie, I'm 'Phousse. The one that asked you is Hawkes. He's West," she said pointing. "And the one still staring shell shocked is Vansen."

"Hi."

"Go get your food," McQueen ordered, concealing a smile. As the squad left, McQueen said, "You got your wish, sir."

"I need to be careful what I say around you, McQueen." Ross laughed. Sobering, he said, "I called Sickbay. They still say 0800."

"Good. I do not need a delay." McQueen gave Cassie a warning look. She nodded back, indicating that she wouldn't be speaking of their earlier incident. "Do you mind if Cassie and I talk to Silver alone?"

Ross shook his head. "No. As much as I would like to be there, I have to get back to that damned inventory."

The squad returned with full plates even as Ross was finishing his breakfast. Ross waited until everyone had sat down and started eating before saying, "McQueen, contact me once you've talked to Silver. I want to know how she's doing."

"Yes, sir."

Ross stood up, his empty plate and coffee mug in his hands. "5-8, you did a good job getting Silver out of a bad situation. Enjoy the next three days. They may be the last down days you get for a while."

Groans greeted his words. With a smile, Ross walked away to deposit his dirty plate and get a coffee refill before heading for his office.

McQueen ate a couple of bites, waiting for the squads' curiosity to overcome their caution.

"So, Cassie, why are you here?" Hawkes immediately stuffed a fork of SOS into his mouth.

"I have to talk to Mom. It's really important." Cassie pushed her scrambled eggs around. She sat silent for a moment, and then started talking. "I knew something had happened to Mom. She's never sent her stuff home before. And then no one would talk to me about why she did it. For the last week, I've had this feeling that I really need to talk to Mom. Then Uncle Jake said he had to get to the Saratoga, that Mom needed him. So, I stowed away on a transport out of Edwards. The MPs found me when we arrived. They checked my ID and contacted the commodore, I guess. All I know is then the colonel came down and brought me back to Mom's quarters. I spent the night there."

"So, what do you have to talk to her about?" asked Vansen.

"It's... ah, well..."

"She's following in her mother's footsteps, as it were," explained McQueen. "When she gets back to Earth, she'll be forming her own close circle."

McQueen saw the understanding dawning in his kids' eyes. To their credit, none of them backed off or looked at Cassie strangely.

"Must be pretty weird." Hawkes shoveled in some more food.

"Yeah."

"Did you see Paul?" 'Phousse licked her lips nervously.

"You got his letters? The ones he sent with Griffon?" Cassie glanced around at them all.

McQueen nodded. "Yes. I've already sent back a reply." He ignored the incredulous looks from his kids. "I mailed it before I could talk myself out of it."

"No one messes with the US Mail," grinned Cassie. "Not even the AIs."

Cassie pushed her plate away and took a drink of her orange juice. "Paul's doing fine. He's walking, well, shuffling around and working hard at the PT Uncle Jake throws at him."

"PT?" Vansen looked confused.

"Physical therapy." West frowned. "Hope your uncle is better than the doctors here."

Remembering his own PT sessions, McQueen said, "He tailors them for each individual patient. What works for one person may not work for another. I'm sure he's pushing Paul to his limits without endangering Paul or risking a setback. But he works his patients hard."

Cassie grinned. "I remember what you looked like coming in from the first run. Or rather walk. Best mile you ever walked, right?"

Sitting back, McQueen nodded. "A car took us down the road one mile and dropped us off. It was nearly dinnertime. He told me that I could eat dinner after I managed to walk back to the complex on my own two feet, and that he would be there every step of the way. It took me over a half hour to make the trip. I was exhausted, but proud of myself. After all, the previous day, I had only walked for ten minutes at a stretch, and I had just walked a mile, admittedly with lots of stops and a lot of pain. The new leg muscles kept cramping up. But Jake was there, immediately working on the spasms, getting me back on my feet."

"And you walked to dinner that night and every night after." Cassie let her grin fade. "Paul just started going to dinner with us on his own feet. He's damn proud of the fact that he's able to walk at all."

"What about the other POWs?"

Cassie sighed. "Well, they're still going through the tank cycle. After all, they weren't started immediately on their arrival on Earth. There was a bit more work to be done on them before they could start. Both Paul and the colonel were jump started."

"Because of your Mom's interest in them?" asked West.

"Yes. Grandfather started them both because Mom asked him to. She wanted them both on their feet as soon as possible." Cassie looked at McQueen. "You because she likes you and Paul because he was important to you."

"I know."

Cassie gave him a sad smile. "I like you both." She looked over at the squad members. "So you all know about Mom?"

Nods all around.

"Good. She needs support out here. Ever since I heard about the 1-10 I've been worried for her. I didn't want anything to happen to her. Not that way. I know it's tough with only three."

McQueen reached over and squeezed Cassie's hand. "She's not alone, Cassie. She has me, Russell, Finch and St. John. I've met a few others who know what she is and might be willing to serve."

Cassie's eyes lit up. "That would be great."

"Now, finish your food. You'll need your strength."

With a sigh, Cassie started picking at her food.

"Eat, young lady. I know the colonel and you won't get to see your mom unless you've cleaned your plate." Shane gave the girl a mock frown.

"So Paul, is he in good spirits?" asked 'Phousse.

"Reasonably good. It's a lot of hard work that he's doing. He watches your letters every night. Jennie and I help him try to write mock letters so that he regains mobility in his hands. He does better on a keyboard, but he needs to be able to use a pen. There's usually some sign of progress every day. A little less pain, a little more movement." Cassie took a big bite of her scrambled eggs.

"His letters always sound so upbeat. I just can't help wondering what he's not telling us." 'Phousse sighed, and sipped her coffee.

Cassie finished her bite before speaking. "Probably how exhausted the PT makes him. He sleeps a lot, but it's good for him. He's working a body that's forgotten most of what it used to do. He gets frustrated, it's only normal, but he works through it and most nights he's in a good mood when he goes to bed. Not very many nightmares."

"Good." 'Phousse nodded. "I know he used to have bad nights about what that damn Elroy did to him."

"He said that both the colonel and Adam helped him deal with it. Getting him to talk about himself has been tough, but every so often, Jennie and I break through."

"Sure you want to be a soldier? Sounds like the medical profession is your field." McQueen pushed his empty plate away and cradled his coffee in his hands.

"I enjoy it when I'm helping someone like you or Paul. But I have no interest in helping the other POWs. Being in the Silver family, you learn medical jargon and how to handle emergencies, not just basic first aid. I've been first on the scene of a bad accident and literally held a man's life in my hands. I kept him alive because of what I know. But I'm not cut out to be a doctor." Cassie shook her head. "No, when Griffon and Mom take me out into the wilderness and we spend three days doing training exercises or I tackle the flight sims at Edwards or I practice on the firing range, that's when I feel truly alive."

"Definitely a soldier."

Cassie nodded at McQueen. "Yes."

"How can you know at such a young age?" Shane gave Cassie a hard look.

"I just do. Mom knew, too. So did Uncle Jake. He combined his love of the outdoors with the medical field. Physical therapy was his chosen field from the age of fourteen."

"What about your father?"

"He's an artist." Cassie grinned. "Drives Grandfather nuts sometimes. But Father is good, really good, and he does murals in the complex for a nominal fee. He really doesn't need to paint, but he loves to. He doesn't understand my obsession with the military, but he's willing to let me do it."

"That's better than most fathers." West sighed, thinking how his own parents had been shocked to hear he had joined the Marines.

"I think it has to do with the fact that his own father tried to force him into a career in accounting. To this day, he hates having to deal with money. Grandfather found him a reliable accountant who makes sure Father has money whenever he wants it."

"What about college? Are you going?" asked Hawkes. "I'm trying to get the various classes I can out here so I can go when I return to Earth."

"Mom has already said that I have to go to college before I can join the military. But I'll probably do like Mom did and have my first two years done before I finish high school." Cassie sighed. "So I'll be twenty before I enter the military."

"What are you going to major in?" West leaned forward.

"Well, it won't be English Lit," grinned Cassie, giving McQueen a quick glance. "I'm not sure yet, probably computers or electronics. Now, if they had courses in survival and weapons, I'd breeze through."

"You think so?" McQueen raised an eyebrow.

"I know so. I've been training at Edwards for two years now."

"Yeah, but they're Air Force instructors," drawled Hawkes while the rest of the squad grinned.

"Sgt. Kehr's a Marine and he's watched over my training," Cassie snapped back.

Hawkes grinned. "Loyalty is good."

Realizing Hawkes had been baiting her, Cassie cooled down. She shook her head. "I should know better. But..."

"You're also a teenager with all that implies," Shane remarked. "Just try to keep your temper and you'll do fine. So how long are you staying with us?"

"I don't know. It'll depend on what Mom says. And other things." Cassie finished the last of her food. "What are we doing until 0800, colonel?"

"Why don't you stay with the squad until it's nearly time. I'll meet you in the Observation Lounge." McQueen gave Shane a look. "Do not take her to the Tun. She's too young."

"Can we show her the other so-called sights?" asked West.

"Anywhere she is legally allowed to go." McQueen rose. He gave Cassie a quick look. "You'll be ok?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be fine."

"Then I'll see you in an hour."

Next : Chapter Eleven
Previous : Chapter Nine
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